GEORGE MICHAEL-FREE

"I'm An Alien In The Potteries Centre"....

This morning I had cause to go to somewhere I normally avoid like the plague....the “shopping mall”. At 9am it was pretty well deserted; a lot of the shops hadn’t even opened. Others were closed terminally. The one shop I wanted wasn’t open yet so I had a five minute walk around.

I felt very uncomfortable. The shops are the generic ones you find at any shopping centre up and down the country...Primark, Samuels, WH Smiths, etc. I dawdled along, little and fat in my long, shabby green skirt, sensible walking jacket and flat boots, and looked at the window displays of unsupportive scratchy underwear, synthetic knockout perfumes, platform high heeled shoes (always make my back twinge to look at ‘em!) and cheaply-made young-style dresses. I felt like an alien. None of this stuff was aimed at me. I had an overwhelming sense of being completely and totally out of place.

Not that I mind. I don’t. Those places sum up everything about modern life that I hate...the sameness, the one-dimensional marketing, the horrible grabbing materialistic atmosphere. I’m relieved that I did feel out of place!

I got what I went for, and came back home gasping for my first cup of tea of the day (hey, how dedicated was that; out before having even had a cuppa?) and when I drew up in my drive I saw the early shoots of Lily of the Valley welcoming me. 

Blessed normality.

Took these photos a couple of weeks ago. Now, this is where I feel at home. 

Legacies

Something I've come across as part of my Tarot studies - the significance of seemingly inanimate objects, handed down. I constantly wear three items of jewellery, two of them given as (new) gifts and the other, a treasured item given to me to wear. Two of them are leather wristbands, one new and the other worn and loved by the giver. The other is a beautiful Celtic Pentagram which I wear on a thin bootlace, given by a dear and great friend. Another item I wear, somewhat less consistently because of its size, is a cross made from three horseshoe nails which Kent bought me when I was about 17 or 18. I lost it once in a countryside courting spot, and was lucky enough to find it again some months later! It's been with me for thirty years now and I treasure it as well.


I think of these things because yesterday, I was given an old and well-loved knitting bag, along with a lovely wooden box of needles, all different sizes and obviously well-used. Well, I know they're well used because I know how prolific a knitter the owner used to be! She has had to give up knitting due to lack of time with caring for her husband, and her changing eyesight.

I felt tearful as she gave me the bag, and honoured to be handed down something which has given her so much enjoyment in a long life. I will treasure the gift as tools of a craft handed from one needlewoman to another, and use them with love and thanks.

So, thank you, Joyce - here's to friendship!

xxx

Another year goes around

Here we are again, on 1st March, and it's a Thursday too, just as it was five years ago. I think it's taken this long to reach acceptance.

Cheers, Kent. I don't need anniversaries to think of you - you are always with me.

Exam this afternoon too - hope it goes well and I don't make any stupid mistakes!